A New Era
by Em Dixon
Summary: Children and running a nation have changed them, they've gotten older, their world is still unstable. At least they have each other. They will always have each other. Zutara week 2014.
1. Melancholy

Meloncholy – To Crown a Prince

Katara sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the tiny mantle she would soon have to place on her son's shoulders, thinking about the weight he would carry from now until the day he died. On the wooden chest next to the mantle sat the Crown Prince's crown, and Katara's breath caught as she thought about how, every morning, her son would wake, and he would do his top knot, and he would put on this crown.

Would she still recognize him? He wouldn't be her baby anymore. In truth, he hadn't been her baby for a very long time. She tried to remind herself that Kurzu was sixteen, now, a young man beyond any doubt.

There was a soft knock at the door.

She clutched the red sheets as she fought against that tear. Where had the years gone?

"Katara?"

Zuko walked in and stopped when he saw her staring at the mantle and the crown. There was only an hour until the ceremony was supposed to begin, she knew, but she couldn't make her heart stop breaking like that. When she looked at Zuko, she could tell that his heart was breaking, too, even if he did hide it better. He'd never been able to hide from her.

"When did we get so old?" he asked, coming to sit on the bed next to her.

They stared at the mantle, so much like their own, with its three tiers of pointed steel, black red with gold trim, then black again. Briefly, Katara wondered if he'd be strong enough to carry that weight all day. Would they have to give him pads to wear over his shoulders? Would he accept that extra help, or would he be stubborn like his father and take the pain as a reminder of his duty? When had he gotten so old and serious?

When she sobbed, Zuko put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

"We tried so hard to shield them from all of this," she whispered. "I'm so proud of the young man he's become. He's so focused on being the best Crown Prince he can be, and really, he's doing a great job of it, it's just…"

"He's our first born," Zuko finished. "It hurts to see him grow up and to know what awaits him."

Katara nodded, but took in a calm, steadying breath. For three years, Kurzu had been asking to be given this crown. He wanted so desperately to help his parents, to make things easier for them. He couldn't even begin to understand just why they were so reluctant to let him wear it. He'd gone so far as to think that they didn't trust him, that they didn't think he was ready. At thirteen, no, he wasn't ready, but it was so much more than that. He was her _child_, her baby. She didn't want him to grow up, to shoulder adult responsibilities, to be trapped in boring meetings rather than running outside and playing with his siblings and his cousins. She wanted _freedom_ for him, the freedom to do with his days as he pleased, to never have to ask himself how other people will take his actions, to lounge, relaxed in the sun rather than spend his days cooped up in an office studying reports and treaties and taxes and looking over the ledger.

They sighed heavily, in unison, and they looked at each other with matching crooked smiles. Zuko laughed, first, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears. The crown and the mantle still waited before them, marking the dividing line between childhood and adulthood. Having been through war, Katara still felt that sixteen was too young, even if Kurzu would still be crown prince in his thirties.

"Your majesties, it's time to begin the ceremony."

Katara sighed. Chief of Staff, Minister Hau was calling them to their duty. When she stood, Zuko was at her side, squeezing her hand.

"We've done what we can to give them a better world. We've done what we could to raise them properly, to make sure they knew right from wrong. To love them…to…"

Zuko trailed off, looking intently at the crown.

"Avatar Roku was the last to wear this crown," he said. "Kurzu knows who he is. We have to trust that. We have to trust him."

Together, clinging to each other for support, they opened the door, and servants and attendants flooded in. They checked to make sure everything was polished to a high gloss, that there were no imperfections, and when they were satisfied, they placed the sacred items, destroyers of childhood though they were, into the wooden chest, and carried it out of the room.

Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara walked at the head of the procession out of the Fire Sages temple and into the courtyard. The day was bright and flawless, and before them was a sea of people. Katara was sure that, in centuries past, Fire Ladies looked out and saw nothing but red as they sent their children forward into adulthood, but when she looked out, her heart swelled with a sad pride.

There was every color imaginable, and on the wind, the sweet smell of a hundred different flowers. The crowd erupted into cheers; red and green and blue and purple and yellow and orange, all these different colors, and mixtures of each greeted them. They threw flowers and rang bells, and Katara tried to suck in their strength and their happiness. She looked for familiar faces, needing just a little more encouragement. There was her father, beaming with pride, unshed tears in his eyes, his hair a little grayer than it had been the last time she saw him. And next to him, Sokka and Suki, holding hands, still so much in love through all the ears. Sokka smiled, and nodded to her, a sad smile of understanding because one day, he would go through this with his own son. Iroh smiled with pure joy, perhaps knowing more certainly than they did that the world was different, that things would be different for their child. Toph sat next to him, her arms crossed, her head high, a slight smirk on her face. Ursa tossed petals into the wind from a basket, catching her eyes, and next to Ursa sat Azula and Aang. Though they'd long ago done away with the awkwardness of their failed relationship, she knew that Aang would always look at her and wonder "what if." She thought she caught a bit of that just then, his wondering how their lives would be different if she'd been able to return his feelings, and Katara forced herself away from his gray eyes to look at Azula. Azula just stared at Katara, steady like her blue flame, and this, more than anything gave Katara hope.

Azula had come through the other side. She'd seen the worst of her family, and had been able to recover. She'd found some measure of happiness, had proven that her family's burden was not too much to bear.

And so Katara turned her attention once again toward the center aisle, and she and Zuko moved as a unit toward the end where their children, and their eldest waited for them, the chest with the crown and mantle being carried behind them.

When they reached him, Kurzu was smiling up at them with bright blue eyes, such joy and happiness on his face. When had he gotten so tall? Not caring that he would be embarrassed, Katara smoothed back his hair, and kissed his forehead as she had done so many times when he was a child.

"Mom," Kurzu muttered, his cheeks coloring a little.

"You will always be my little boy. No matter how big you get. No matter how old you are."

They stepped to the side.

"Today, we witness the crowning of Prince Kurzu, son of Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara," the eldest Fire Sage said. "Let this crowning cement the dawning of a new day for the Fire Nation. Let it cement the peace that the union of Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara has brought to this nation."

Katara tried to hold onto her smile as the mantle was lifted over her little boy's head. Together, she and Zuko fastened the straps at his sides as the Fire Sage continued about auspicious signs and peace and prosperity, about Kurzu's accomplishments and the greatness of his family. Together, she and Zuko lifted the crown, held it above their baby's topknot.

"Today, we banish you, Prince Kurzu, and welcome _Crown_ Prince Kurzu of the Fire Nation!"

The crowd erupted into cheers.

"Son of Fire Lord Zuko."

Bells rang.

"Son of Fire Lady Katara."

People stood and clapped.

"First of his name."

She didn't hold back her tears.

* * *

A/N: For Zutara week 2014. Once again, everything I write takes place in this one, insane _massive_ headcannon I have.I've missed all of you. Massive thanks goes out to **Jazzpha **and **Masayume**, because they've been my constant companions and my muses.


	2. Jubilant

Jubilant

Zuko wasn't sure if he should blame his mother for this, but he had a pretty good idea that she was, indeed, behind this.

Fireworks exploded overhead, lighting the night sky in a million different colors. Lanterns were strung across doorways, giving off a gentle light as Zuko walked through the crowded marketplace. A pair of young women hurried past, tossing a halfhearted, giggling bow to him as they recognized who he was. He caught a fragment of their conversation, surprised and excited that Fire Nation women used to dress in such pretty, colorful dresses and glad that they had the chance to dress like that again. They loved the hair ornaments, the bracelets, the flowers. It was all so decadent, so beautiful. They were glad to have it back.

Zuko looked down at his daughter, Ira, resplendent in a light pink sleeveless dress with a red sash at her waist. She looked up at him, gold eyes shining with pure joy and delight, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. The hair ornaments she'd received that morning in the shapes of jeweled koi fish and dragons tinkled in the night air.

"You look beautiful, honey," he said. And he meant it. "It's hard to believe you're fourteen today. You and Khan, both. All of you are growing so quickly."

Ira giggled behind her hand in a way that was just _so_ Katara, and he kissed her forehead.

"Hey, dad, want to see something mom taught me?"

Before he had the chance to answer, and to wonder when she'd stopped calling him daddy, Ira was off like a shot, heading toward a nearby fountain. He didn't miss the way a group of boys watched her as she passed by them, or the way she gave them a little wave, or the way they elbowed each other. Before he had the chance to go off after them, a strong hand pulled the back of his robe.

"Down, boy," Katara said, chuckling. "This is a festival. And they're not kids anymore, remember?"

Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes again, Ira was waiting impatiently at the fountain, and Khan had joined her. He grabbed Katara's hand and went toward the twins. He'd been so amused by them. Both with the same deep golden eyes, more like Ursa's than his own and black-brown hair, Ira a waterbender, Khan a firebender. In the twins, he and Katara were perfectly mixed.

People slowed as Ira began to move, swinging her arms with a youthful gracefulness and making the water shoot up into the air in a great jet. Her face was calm and smiling, the lantern light reflected in her eyes, as she spun around, the water following her, taking the shape of a dragon, and not to be outdone, Khan did the same, his face a little more serious than his twin's as the people began to clap.

Katara stepped forward at a familiar mischievous glint in Khan's eyes, and Zuko grabbed the back of her dress.

"Down, girl."

Khan's fire dragon gave a great whoosh as it dove toward Ira, and she yelled at her brother, whipping her dragon away to keep it safe.

"Zuko don't let your children mess up your mother's festival. She worked hard on it," Katara scolded.

Zuko snorted. "Despite what she might say, I'm pretty sure she planned this to coincide with the twins' birthday. If they mess up her festival, maybe she'll think twice."

"You don't really mean that! That's horrible," Katara said, her hands going to her hips.

"No." Zuko turned back to his children. "But they seem to be having so much fun."

When Katara huffed, he just wound his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side, and she huffed, but stayed put. The crowd around Ira and Khan had dispersed, and Ira was yelling at Khan that his fire better not touch her dress or Agni as her witness she will end him. It was such a Katara thing to do. In fact, he was pretty sure Katara had said pretty much the same thing to him. There was a complete rightness about world, about everything in front of him.

Peace.

He felt Katara's arms tighten around him, and he kissed her forehead. He fought the smile for a while, but when the twins looked over at them, momentarily pausing in their battle to flash their parents with matching smiles. Zuko studied the image, did his best to commit the entire scene to memory.

This was what he fought for.


	3. Motorcycle

Motorcycle

Zuko shrugged on the leather jacket, pulled the gloves over his hands, flexed his fingers, and smiled. It was a good fit, and judging by Katara's lingering look, he looked damn good, too.

"My lord, we can postpone this…experiment. The winds are rather strong today," his Chief of Staff, Minister Hau said nervously.

He'd been the one to suggest that Zuko wear protective gear for this first experimental flight. Druk was finally fully grown, finally at his full strength, and now Zuko wanted to try something new. He wanted to know the extent of his companion's power, and had devised an obstacle course. It took a lot of convincing to get the guards to shoot fire at their Fire Lord and his dragon, but they'd reluctantly agreed.

"I think Minister Hau is right," General Jee said, fidgeting.

Jee had been with Zuko through his banishment, had protected him through countless assassination attempts, and had protected his children, as well. And now, Zuko knew, Jee feared that he would lose Zuko to reckless driving on a wild beast. But Zuko knew better. Druk wasn't wild. Maybe a little, but they could harness that.

Druk was rumbling idly with excitement next to him, and Zuko rubbed a gloved hand on the top of the dragon's head before hopping on his back and grabbing the reins. The only person who didn't look concerned was Azula, who was looking amused at the whole thing.

"You coming, Katara?"

Her face lit up as she took his hand, and he pulled her up behind him, ignoring the protests and Minister Hau practically falling to his knees _begging_ one of them to sit this ride out.

"I'm surprised she doesn't make you ride bitch," Azula called out.

Zuko responded maturely, giving her the finger. Hau muttered that this was proof that this day could only end in tragedy. Druk was idling with an increasingly loud rumble, ready to be off, to test his skill against whatever the guards might throw at him. The dragon's muscles rippled as he shifted from side to side.

"Let's ride," Zuko said, and with a great roar, the dragon was off, shooting into the air. 

* * *

A/N: I was completely prepared to avoid this prompt, but a conversation with the lovely **Masayume** about how I _couldn't_ make this work ended up in me making it work, kinda. I very much wanted this to not be an AU of any sort, and am fairly please with what I've churned out.


	4. Cobalt Blue

Cobalt Blue

Zuko loved travelling by sea. He'd spent some of the most tumultuous years of his life on a tiny ship. His family's new ship seemed a floating palace by comparison. There were enough rooms for he and Katara, all five of the children, Iroh, Jun, and his mother. There was enough room for at least twenty guests, he figured. Plus some staff, and the sailors. There were even three offices and two small meeting rooms. The ship had been designed to practically _be_ a palace on the water. It was quite comfy, especially on long journeys like this.

More than anything, he liked that it let him watch his wife without her knowing. He'd been following her like a ghost for days, though Zuko supposed she figured out he was following at some point. It was a little game they played from time to time.

She'd been up on deck for hours, even as the air began to cool drastically, her blue parka on the floor beside her. She was wearing a long, form fitting dress of heavy blue linen, a row of white whalebone buttons down the back. Her hair was piled on top of her head, no doubt held in place by the whalebone combs he gave her on their wedding day.

"Dad, are you being a creeper again?"

Zuko rolled his eyes as his youngest daughter, twelve year old Lei, came to sit on the stairs next to him.

"I am _not_ being a creeper. Sometimes I just like to watch her."

"She's not even doing anything. She's just standing there."

Still, Lei mimicked Zuko's position, leaning her chin on her folded arms. Together, they watched as Katara leaned over the railing, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the wind. Druk roared overhead, and Katara smiled, opening her eyes and sending a ball of ice hurling from the ocean toward the dragon. Druk charged toward it and chomped down, shattering the small globe. They continued this game, Katara's laugh reaching Zuko and Lei at their hiding spot at the top of the stairs that lead below deck.

"Did I tell you about the time your mother saved my life?"

Lei rolled her eyes, patting him on the shoulder. "Which time, dad?"

"I'll have you know I've saved myself plenty of times."

They were still far from land, surrounded almost entirely by blue ocean and blue sky. Birds cawed, fish travelled along the ship. You could practically see them in the nearly clear waters. Katara's game with Druk ended, and the dragon flew off toward the back of the ship, but she wasn't done bending. Zuko felt a little bad, keeping her so far from water in the Fire Nation. She was so rarely surrounded by her element like this since they didn't make it down to the beaches terribly often. He knew she did the best she could with the ponds. But this? This was something else.

The ship rumbled as Katara made a giant tidal wave. It crashed into the water next to them, and she turned, her arms outstretched, pure joy on her face as the water encircled the ship before she sent it crashing back into the ocean, then bending a huge cloud around them. She spun gracefully, and for a moment, their eyes met, and there was such a soft, loving look in them, that Zuko felt like the world had been ripped away from him, and all there was in all of existence was the two of them. Vaguely, he was aware of Lei talking to him, but he didn't hear a word she said. But then Katara finished her turn, her back to him once again. He remembered another dress she'd worn with whalebone buttons down the back. One that he was so eager to have her out of, that he'd been tempted to burn it off of her. Five children later, he was glad he hadn't because she looked just as stunning in it as she had when she'd first worn it at Sokka and Suki's wedding.

"I've never met another woman like your mother," he said quietly.

"Uncle was right," Lei said. "You're such a hopeless romantic, dad."

Silently, they watched as she went through a serious of Southern Style techniques. It was like she was stretching after sitting down for so long. There was such freedom in her movements. Her blows had a weight they never had in the Fire Nation. She'd given up a lot to be with him, and Zuko promised to himself that they'd get down to the beaches more often.

"Mom's pretty amazing, isn't she?" Lei whispered.

"She really is." 

* * *

A/N: I got home late last night, so I didn't get around to posting this. But here it is. Initially, I'd had something completely different planned that involved them going to the North, but ended up scrapping that for this instead. It's simple, short and sweet, I think.


	5. Unrequited

Unrequited

Katara held her breath as she watched him from across the bonfire as he laughed with Sokka, and Sokka slapped his back good-naturedly, snatching the bottle of whatever they were drinking away.

Zuko.

They rarely got together like this, and when Suki invited everyone to Kyoshi for her eighteenth birthday, they'd all done the best they could to be there. It was something of a small miracle that they'd all managed to make it, even if they did arrive at slightly different times. It was a miracle that _Zuko_ made it; too often, he was the only one missing from their gatherings. Too much of her didn't want to let this opportunity go to waste. Too much of her knew she was courting danger.

He probably didn't know how much it was costing her to keep calm around him, to keep her hands to herself, to keep quiet. She swallowed thickly as his eyes found hers, and he was still smiling, even as he got up and left their circle of friends. Sokka protested, saying that Zuko couldn't be going to bed already; the sun had just gone down. Even the old people were still up. Everyone sitting around the bonfire laughed, and her voice sounded strained and distant to her own ears. She wondered if anyone noticed. Hakoda shot a "watch it, buddy" toward his son, but he couldn't mask the laughter in his voice.

Zuko made his way toward her, and Katara looked at some point past him, as her heart twisted in a mix of joy and pain. She wouldn't look at his bare chest, or the way the sand still clung to his arms. She wouldn't think about how it felt to be in his arms, to be held by him, to drag her fingers down his back. Those were dangerous thoughts. When he ruffled her hair, she played her part and swatted his hand away, shooting his back an annoyed look. Iroh shook his head, chuckling silently to himself. They were, of course, just friends.

When Zuko could no longer be seen by the light of the fire, she began the countdown.

For two agonizing minutes, she lounged and talked with her family and friends. She chatted with Iroh about tea, asked Suki how often she would _really_ use the boomerang Sokka got her. She teased when her brother kissed his girlfriend, and in her heart of hearts, she _hated_ them with every bit of her selfish, jealous being. Just before the tears threatened to spill, she stood, stretching her back, saying she was going to go on a walk for a bit. Her father looked at her, searching her, asked if she was ok.

"Yeah, just getting stiff."

Her voice was stiff in her own ears. She'd reached her limit. She couldn't hide it anymore.

It didn't take long to find him, impatiently waiting for her in a barely lit space between two dorms. Her breath was shaky when she released it, and he pressed his lips against hers, passionate and needy, his arms at her waist. She put her hand at the back of his neck, rubbing gentle circles, keeping his mouth against hers. She'd missed this. She'd missed _him_.

They stumbled and her back hit the wall behind her, and he was kissing her neck, and she let out a sigh that was half sob. No tears, she told herself, forced herself to live in the moment, to just accept that this was what her life had become, and she prayed to Tui and La that Zuko wouldn't notice the way she was breathing heavily. But he would. Of course he would. He noticed everything about her, was always there for her, and that only made it harder when he couldn't be.

"What's wrong?"

She brushed his hair away from his face, kissed his scar.

"Spirits, Zuko, I missed you. I missed you so much."

He kissed her cheeks, then her lips, then her neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her. "I…I couldn't make myself do it. I couldn't go to your dad's party and not touch you."

She tried to smile for him. "Festival."

He smiled for her. "Festival, party. It's all the same."

They were quiet, and Katara had that dread in her heart. This wouldn't be one of their happy, clandestine meetings. She leaned in first this time, taking his face in her hands, standing on the tips of her toes. When he stepped in closer to her, she deepened the kiss, relishing in that little growl he gave as his hands moved from her waist to her bottom, and she leaned into him even more. She needed this. This had to last her until the next time they would be able to sneak off like this. When they broke apart this time, it was Zuko who looked pained.

"This isn't fair to you Katara. We shouldn't meet like this."

"Zuko, please don't."

"You deserve so much more."

She couldn't stop the tears anymore. "Then give it to me."

He looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. They'd been down this road before, had examined it from every angle. Their family would mean well. They'd do everything they could to help, to find some way to keep them together.

"Please," she whispered, resting her head against his chest. "I need this. Just give me tonight."

She could see this imagined future in her mind. Zuko presenting his idea to his council, their anger, their rejection, threatening to rebel. And he'd have to marry someone else to keep the peace, to keep his nation from falling apart. And how would the South react to losing their daughter? It was still too soon after the war, still too many people were upset. They just needed time, maybe.

When he kissed her again, it was with everything he had, and he was so strong, so warm against her, and she ran her hand over his lightning scar, feeling the place on his body dedicated to her, that had his love for her written on it. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, a promise that he would live for her. And when her legs grew weak, he picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, looking down into his golden eyes. Once, she'd been terrified that she'd never see them again, that they would never open.

There was a group of voices, and Zuko cursed, letting her down gently, and for a moment, she thought he might step out into the light of the passing torches when they saw that it was Iroh. She tugged his hand and silently begged him not to, pulling him further into the darkness. Iroh would try his hardest to make it ok for them to be together. Perhaps he would be the most heartbroken when all their attempts failed.

"Katara? Huh. Wonder where she could have gone."

She didn't stifle the sob when she heard her father's voice fast enough, and she turned, quickly pushing at Zuko, knowing he couldn't be seen there with her. It would lead to too many questions she couldn't answer just then. He grabbed her for one last, rough, rushed kiss, then she turned her back on him, refusing to see which way he went, afraid that she'd be too tempted to follow.

"Is that you Katara?"

Slowly she moved toward her father and his torch. He would see that she'd been crying. She wondered if there were any marks on her, half hoping that there were. Almost wanting to be caught.

"Yeah, it's me."

"I knew everything wasn't ok. What's wrong, pup?"

Hakoda held out his arm, and Katara went to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Dare she tell him the truth?

"I…" She breathed. "I just got lonely."

"Even with all of us around?"

They started walking toward their dorm.

"It never lasts long enough."

She didn't have to strength to say it. Not yet. 

* * *

A/N: I think this was my favorite to write, as painful as it was. As soon as I saw this prompt, I just _knew_. This is actually the first time I've written this part of my headcanon, where Zuko and Katara are sneaking around because they don't believe a relationship could work between them. Thanks to lovely, lovely **Masayume** for previewing this for me.


	6. Socks

Zuko sat on the floor of Hakoda's house, three of his four children lined up in front of him on the couch, all bundled in tiny blue parkas. Being one, it was easiest to get Kya dressed, and he'd started with her, stuffing her in her jacket and scarf, and shoving her hands into tiny mittens. Then he'd moved on to Ira. She was harder to wrangle into winter clothes, because she wanted out the door, babbling in her baby way and flapping her arms while Zuko put her boots on.

"No, daddy, no!"

Khan, however, was not being as cooperative as his sisters. He wiggled his toes and twisted his foot to keep it away from the sock that Zuko was holding, and finally, Zuko hung his head and sighed.

"Son, please."

"Mamma, Appa," Khan said, pointing toward the door.

"Yes, they're both outside, but you can't go outside without your boots, and you can't have your boots without socks."

Khan bunched up his face, tiny little eyebrows coming together and lips poking out. He huffed and flapped his arms. He'd definitely picked that up from his mother, Zuko decided. Khan was shaping up to be the little rebel of their children, though his mother assured him time and time again that two year olds were just difficult. They were testing their boundaries, Iroh had said. That's very much like Sokka, Hakoda had said. Katara had just smiled and pinched him when he told her that they should have been better about family planning.

"I'm ready!"

Khan's twin, Ira, was holding out her arms to Zuko. She'd put her shoes on the wrong foot, and was trying to get down from the couch.

"Look, you're sister's got her boots on," Zuko said as he put his daughter's shoes on properly and put her further back on the couch. "We're not going out unless you have your boots on, too."

Of course, Khan was having none of it, and pulled his feet under him. Groaning, Zuko went to the window to see who he could call for reinforcements. A very pregnant Katara had their oldest son, Kurzu, and was helping him slide down Appa's tail as Ursa and Hakoda looked on, Hakoda cradling Sokka and Suki's new daughter, Kila. In just a few short years, their family had managed to produce a lot of children. Granted, most of those children belonged to him and Katara, but still. It was worth the hassle to watch all the children playing together in the snow when they made visits to the South, or at the beach when they'd all gathered at Ember Island. Zuko watched as Katara let go of Kurzu's hand and he ran to Sokka and Suki's son, Sos, and the two wrestled in the snow. When Katara looked up, she smiled at him, and Zuko got those silly little flutters in his stomach, as he motioned for her to come inside.

"Now your mom's coming," he told Khan.

"No! Daddy!"

Khan shot off the couch, Ira hot on his heels, and while Khan whined as he clung to Zuko's leg, Ira laughed as she jumped, trying to grab his hand. Poor little Kya was stuck on the couch, too small to get down on her own, and pretty soon, Zuko would have two fussy kids on his hands.

"You always managed to be outnumbered," Katara said from the door, a big smile on her face.

"There are more of them than there are of us."

Katara laughed as she shrugged out of her coat, and Zuko watched her, doing his best to fix this image of her in his mind. His beautiful waterbender with her hair completely loose and slightly damp from the lightly falling snow, her head cocked to the side as she placed her gloved hands on her stomach. She was again dressed in blue, and Zuko could never decide if he liked her more in blue or red. She smiled that private smile of awe and love that said the baby was moving, and rather than going to her, Zuko waited, letting her have this joy.

"You're beautiful…"

The words slipped out before he'd even realized his mouth was open, and Katara started like she'd forgotten they were there. Zuko could have kicked himself for blushing. Hell, he was the reason she was pregnant. Again. But Ira was tugging at his jacket, and the spell was broken. Zuko put the kids on the couch and Katara hung up her jacket before joining him. Kya had fallen asleep in her corner of the couch, and together, in a wonderful, lovely, comfortable silence filled only with baby noises, they wrangled Khan into his socks and boots, and before either of them had a chance to get up, Ira was at the door, ready to go.

"Do you want to lie down?"

Zuko had scooped up Kya, holding her in the crook of his arm. When Katara looked at him, he got those same flutters he got when he was sixteen; it was the second time she'd made him feel that way in the span of a few minutes. Laughing, he shook his head.

"You still make me—"

"You still make me—"

Their laughter doubled as Zuko helped Katara up from the couch, his arm slipping around her waist as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Wow," Katara said, wiping her eyes. "We are such dorks."

"Daddy bye bye!"

Ira and Khan were beating at the front door with little mittened hands, long past ready to join the fun outside.

"So, nap?"

Zuko opened the door, and the children screamed, barreling right into their brother and cousin.

"No," she said, coming up behind him. "I don't want to miss this." 

* * *

A/N: Posted as penance for the angst I've put you guys through with _Whatever Happiness We Can Get_. Just a little family fun in the South. I can totally see Dadko getting overwhelmed by all the kids. And yeah, they should have been better about family planning, but at least they get it out of the way in one bunch?


	7. Slow Dance

Flower petals were still floating on the wind, and all Zuko could think about was how much trouble it would be to clean them up. It had been his mother's idea for the spectators to throw them from the windows during the wedding processional. It made a beautiful sight during the ceremony, but now, late into the evening, they were still around. At least they made the air smell nice.

"Stop brooding, it's our wedding," Katara said, placing her hand lightly over his.

Zuko forced his mind away from problems of cleaning up the capital, and looked at his bride. She was absolutely beautiful, her hair braided and curled and jeweled, the Fire Lady's crown sitting firmly in her topknot, her dress a beautiful rich blue with elaborate gold and silver threading that mimicked waves. The full moon was the perfect backdrop for her, and Zuko found himself smiling unguardedly. It was a lot of work and very annoying to plan, and things were rushed toward the end when they found out she was pregnant, but their ceremony had been beautiful and powerful and everything Katara had dreamed it would be. He placed his hand on her growing stomach, glad that she had chosen to highlight it rather than hide it. His heart skipped a beat as she placed her hand over his, and finally, because he could, he kissed her sweetly and gently, loving the way she smelled like moon peaches. Loving _her_.

"Why don't you dance with your new bride?" Ursa said, coming to sit in the chair beside Katara.

Zuko sighed. Of course this wouldn't be a gathering with their family if someone didn't come along and try to ruin it.

"I didn't know you danced!" Katara said, her face lighting up.

"I don't."

"Don't be silly!"

Ursa was looking at him with a very sly grin, and for some reason—despite having told him that she herself didn't dance—Katara was completely enthralled by this notion. She was absolutely beaming as she turned to face Ursa, and Zuko glared a hole in the back of her head. He would not be dancing. He was content to sit at their table, receive the necessary visitors and talk with his family.

"Zuko went to school before dancing was finally banned," Ursa said, delighted. "So he was taught all of the formal dances."

"He failed to mention that," Katara said, giving him a little pinch. "Why wouldn't you say anything?"

"In fact—"

"Mom. Mom, stop—"

"Zuko was the best in his class—"

"Mom. Mom. Knock it off."

"All of the little girls just loved—"

"Don't go there, mom."

"And I mean _loved_—"

"Do you hate me?"

"Dancing with him."

Katara turned toward him, and Zuko knew he was in trouble, completely unable to force himself to stop blushing. That had been a long time ago, and yes, he had been good at it in the same way he was good at everything that wasn't firebending. And yes, _maybe_, he'd been a popular dance partner, though Zuko had always assumed it was in large part because he was a prince.

"Who's to say I even remember?" He asked, crossing his arms.

If it was possible for her smile to get even more devilish and sneaky—and when it came to Katara, it was _always_ possible—it did, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked at him.

"Look me in the eye, Zuko. Tell me you'd deny your pregnant wife a dance on her wedding day."

"You told me you didn't know how to dance," he mumbled.

"I guess you'll just have to lead!"

Ursa had already helped Katara out of her chair, and was now coming for him. Katara looked so excited and hopeful, and Zuko sighed, feeling his face get warm again. She knew he'd do anything for her, and reluctantly, he bowed low, holding out his hand, hating how quickly everything returned to him.

"If I may have the pleasure, my lady?"

"Damn right it's your pleasure," she said with a smile and a giggle.

Katara took his hand and Zuko led her out onto the dance floor as the crowd parted. He was very aware of everyone's eyes on them as the musicians ended one song and started another. Much to his embarrassment, as the new song began, everyone cleared the floor, and they quickly found themselves left alone.

"I hope you're happy," he muttered.

"How could I not be happy, Zuko?"

When she looked at him, there were tears in her eyes, and she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. Zuko put his arm around her waist and took her hand, and she fell into step with him in that odd way they had, that back and forth, the push and pull that had been so characteristic of their relationship. He remembered the dance and the way he used to lead partners who weren't as skilled as he was, and he slipped into that old pattern, gently pulling and pushing Katara in the right directions to the beats of the music. He kept the steps simple, waited until he no longer had to guide her into the next movement, then began the next sequence.

Katara blushed as she looked at him, and Zuko couldn't help the little flutters in the pit of his stomach. Katara, his wife, his Fire Lady, was so different from all those other girls. After a while, it was almost as if she were anticipating his movements, the same way she did when they were sparring. She knew where he was going, and Zuko didn't suppress his own smile as he slipped effortlessly into the next sequence, stepping to the right as Katara stepped to the left, her hand still on his shoulder, and his hand resting on her stomach. It was almost uncanny the way she knew him, and Zuko pushed that understanding just to see how far it would go, and she kept up with him, step for step. The world around them disappeared as they moved in synch, perfectly attuned to one another. Even as enemies, it had always been like this; it was always a test to see if he could outwit her, if he could push his bending just a little further to trick her. As friends, this dance continued, one of dominance, but increasingly one of trust, and in typical Katara style, when they came together again, _she_ tried to lead _him_.

"Stop trying to lead, Katara," he whispered in her ear with his cheek against hers. "You don't even know the dance."

"I know you, though," she said, only halfway predicting his next move. "That's good enough, right?"

"In some things—"

"Try most things."

"In _some_ things, maybe, but not this."

And just to prove him wrong, Katara took control, leading him in the steps he'd just taught her, mixing it slightly with Southern Style waterbending. She was graceful and alluring, and just this once, because it was her wedding, and she was carrying his child, and because he loved her, Zuko let her lead. He followed her, proving that he could anticipate her moves just as well as she could his. When she smiled at him, his heart melted again, because finally, after all they'd been through, things were finally the way they were meant to be.

When the song ended, everyone clapped and complimented the Fire Lord and his Fire Lady, and Zuko decided that maybe it wasn't quite so bad that he had to dance at their wedding. Rather than bow to him, as was traditionally done at the end of dances, Katara laughed as she threw her arms around his waist.

"That was wonderful," she said, her cheek against his chest. "I wish you wouldn't hide these things."

Zuko shrugged, leading Katara back to their table.

"Maybe… Maybe I'll play the tsungi horn for you, sometime."

Katara smiled up at him and squeezed his arm.

"I'd love that."

* * *

A/N: Ok, this one is _finally_ done and posted. I've been holding on to it for a long time, and I'm just going to release this one into the wilds. Short, sweet, slightly embarrassing for Zuko. Pure fluff.


End file.
